


my love will clothe your bones

by bigkths (orphan_account)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Simon, Demiromantic Raphael, Demisexual Raphael, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bigkths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love, for Simon, doesn't happen like it does in the movies, or in books. He doesn't just wake up one day and have this grand realization that he's in love with Raphael; not like he did with Clary, anyway. There is a realization, of course, but it doesn't come as some huge shock to him. After all they've been through, the battles, bringing one another back from the brink of true death, all the lingering stares, personal conversations in the early hours of the morning. It all just... makes sense to him.</p><p>It clicks, it is what it is.</p><p>There's a brief moment of 'oh no, not again', because he's been through this whole unrequited thing before and it's not fun, but then he goes about his day as normal. It's okay though. He'll be okay, because Simon is The King of Suppressed Feelings and Raphael doesn't need to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to preface this by saying i haven't read the books, i'm not a writer by any means, and i don't speak a lick of spanish. so if i mess something up, i apologize! i'll add more ships/characters/tags/warnings when they're applicable. see end notes for translations.

  
  
If Simon had to pinpoint a moment in time when he stops hating what he is a little less, it’s probably right around when he saves Isabelle, of all people, from a demon. She’s so concerned with Alec’s well-being that she doesn’t notice it coming at her, snarling and closing distance quickly. Simon doesn’t even think about it, he just reacts and before he knows it, he’s got his clawed fingers curled around the Dahak’s neck and he’s sending the grotesque, reptilian like creature flying.

The most he gets in the way of a thank you is an appreciative glance from Isabelle once it’s all over and they’re back at the Institute. Simon nods to her and hugs Clary before heading back to Dumort. He’s not even mad about it, either. Hearing ‘thank you’ is always nice, but in this case it’s not necessary because he knows he did a good deed; his superhuman reflexes and strength allowed him to do a good thing. It never really occurred to him that not all monsters are bad, that he’d be capable of doing anything other than sucking blood from a plastic bag and fighting the urge to kill everyone with a pulse. It’s nice though, makes him think that there still might be some hope for him yet.

It sticks with him, the thought that just because he’s a vampire now doesn’t mean he’s only capable of evil. It starts changing the way he looks at himself, it even changes the way he perceives Raphael. Before, he held a lot of resentment and anger towards Raphael, blamed him in part for what happened to him even though he knew it was all Camille’s fault. He needed someone to blame and with Camille not being around, Raphael seemed like an easy target at the time. God, he almost feels bad about it now; all the times he’s been purposefully difficult and defiant under Raphael’s leadership. Simon knows he can’t take it back, but at the very least he could be a bit more accommodating.

Simon decides to take baby steps, decides to stop talking back so much. Raphael notices, he notices everything Simon does even if Simon thinks he’s being discreet about it. Not defying the other vampire ends up inadvertently lowering his guard, too. He ends up noticing little things he never noticed before.

Raphael is in the middle of ranting about how he’s too slow and his hits are too weak, saying something about if he doesn’t start training more he’ll end up getting hurt. Simon zones out, only hears half of what Raphael is saying because he keeps catching glimpses of something around his neck, just under the collar of his dress shirt. It’s a rosary. Simon doesn’t need to see the whole thing to know, he just does.

The fact that Raphael still holds onto his faith, after all this time, even though he’s a vampire - it gets to Simon in a way he can’t explain. It only furthers his new belief that just because they are what they are, children of the night, they aren’t inherently _evil_.

“Dios mio,” Raphael sighs and snaps his fingers in front of Simon’s face to gain his attention. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“What?” Simon responds and looks up from Raphael’s rosary to meet his eyes, gaping ever so slightly. “Yeah, yeah, I totally heard you. I’m too slow, I’m too weak. I know. I’ll get better.”

“That’s…” Raphael hesitates and eventually starts shaking his head, exasperated. “Get some rest, fledgling. We’re training more at sundown.”

“Hey, what-” Simon’s face scrunches up in confusion when Raphael walks away from him without stopping.

It’s remarkable, really, how he’s purposefully trying to do better and he still manages to piss Raphael off. He doesn’t even know what he did this time aside from droning out a little when Raphael was listing off everything he needs to fix. Unless that’s not all Raphael said, which he highly doubts, because it’s all he ever says; he’s constantly telling Simon how weak he is.

With a resigned huff of breath, Simon cards his fingers through his hair and heads to his room, closing the door and plopping gracelessly down onto his bed. He intends to text Clary back before he passes out, but his pillow is so soft and the dim lighting in his room is so comforting that exhaustion weighs at his eyelids and he’s out in under a minute. Clary will understand.

Simon wakes with a start, feeling like the world beneath him is trembling, head jolting up to frantically look around. Raphael laughs, likely at the bewildered look on his face and lets go of the side of the bed to step back.

“Rise and shine, baby,” says Raphael, barely an inkling of sleep to his voice. “Hora de entrenar.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Simon grumbles and drops his face back into his pillow, grimacing when his cheek touches his slobber spot.

Raphael watches him for a moment, Simon can see him in his periphery, and then he rolls his eyes and leaves the room, “Training room, five minutes.”

It’s infuriating, honestly, how Raphael is always so well put together. Simon doesn’t think he has seen the guy even the slightest bit rumpled since he moved into Dumort. It’s always freshly pressed suits, sly smiles and an air of easy swagger with the guy. Training is usually the only chance he gets to see Raphael disheveled - and it literally never happens, because Raphael always ends up handing his ass to him - but it motivates him to get out of bed anyway.

When Simon stumbles into the training room, still half asleep, Raphael is leaning against a wall with his arms crossed like The King of Cool. One minute Simon is vertical, but the next he’s lying on the floor gasping for a breath he doesn’t even need because Raphael clotheslined him.

“Always have your guard up, expect the unexpected,” Raphael instructs as he looks down at him, clearly disappointed. “Don’t think someone or something won’t attack just because you just woke up.”

“Alright, I get it,” Simon grunts, rubbing his neck as he clambers back up to his feet.

Raphael goes to attack him again, but Simon senses it this time and dodges out of his way. He feels smug about it for all of two seconds before Raphael knocks him down a peg and sends him soaring across the room. Training is grueling, it always is with Raphael. Over the time he’s been here, he’s trained with some of the others, but Raphael is always the hardest on him, the most relentless.

Seeing as Simon isn’t as strong or as fast as Raphael yet, he has to rely on what little bit of cunning he has. Raphael circles him and Simon tenses, his hands balling into fists at his sides as his gaze follows the other man.

“Why do you still wear your beads?” Simon asks Raphael suddenly, eyes dropping to his neck questioningly.

It works, Simon can see the confusion on Raphael’s face, “Why do I-how do you know I’m wearing a rosary?”

“I have eyes,” retorts Simon.

Raphael snorts at him, but Simon can tell he doesn't have his mind on training now, his shoulders droop a little as he shakes his head, “Faith is not faith if you abandon it, mi amor.”

“So you still believe… that you’ll-that you’ll what? That you’ll go to heaven?” Simon questions sincerely, because despite the fact that he’s about to knock Raphael on his ass, he does want to know.

Raphael opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before he responds, regarding Simon curiously, “I have to believe that there’s something other than this. Is that so crazy to you?”

“No,” Simon insists quickly, because he hadn’t meant to offend Raphael. “No, it’s not crazy. I was just, you know, genuinely curious. I noticed the beads yesterday and figured I’d ask. Also-”

Without giving Raphael a chance to react, Simon speeds toward him, grabs him by the arm, and flings him across the room. Simon smiles triumphantly when Raphael hits hard, groaning coming from where he’s sprawled on the ground. Simon walks over to where the other vampire is and looks down at him, proud of himself.

“You shouldn’t let your guard down,” Simon mocks Raphael.

“Dios, vas a acabar matándome.”

Simon makes a mental note to learn Spanish just then, because he’s really getting tired of not knowing what Raphael is saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dios = god  
> hora de entrenar = training time/time to train (i think?)  
> vas a acabar matándome = you'll end up killing me (which could also be roughly translated to 'you'll be the death of me', which is what i was shooting for. also, ironic, right?? ahaha because he's already dead)  
> *finger guns out of the room*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to preface this by saying i haven't read the books, i'm not a writer by any means, and i don't speak a lick of spanish. so if i mess something up, i apologize! i'll add more ships/characters/tags/warnings when they're applicable. see end notes for translations.

  
  
Learning Spanish, as it turns out, isn’t nearly as easy as Simon thought it would be. He’s always busy, so there’s really no time to commit to learning a new language. These days he’s either at Dumort, helping Raphael with something, or at the Institute helping Clary and the others. In between the two, he manages to buy a Spanish Language Book from a little corner store about a mile from the hotel. It’s small and Simon keeps it tucked inside his jacket. Any time he has a moment to breathe, he flips through it and tries to memorize words and conjugations. Never in front of Raphael though. 

Simon really wants to test the waters, see if he can manage to pronounce even one word correctly, but he’s worried about messing it up. Sure, he initially got the book because Raphael is spouting off things all the time that he doesn’t understand, but it’d also be nice to learn a thing or two. But if he fucks it up, God, Raphael would never let him hear the end of it. 

Still, he just wants to show Raphael that he’s trying. Raphael isn’t his sire, he knows that, but there’s still a weird, inexplicable need for the other vampire’s approval and validation.

Thankfully, things aren’t quite as tense between them anymore, ever since he decided to let go of his anger and deal with the hand he was dealt. Simon isn’t sure if Raphael has noticed the effort he’s been putting in, but he hasn’t been pushing Simon as hard or nagging as much lately. So he counts it as win. Though, on occasion, Raphael is still moody with him for no reason.

Instead of attempting it with Raphael first, he tries it out on Isabelle when the lot of them get back to the Institute after helping Luke. Simon has heard her speak Spanish before, Alec too. It’ll still be just as embarrassing if he messes up, but Isabelle is kind-hearted and Simon knows she won’t tease him too badly.

“Where is your mind at, Simon?” Isabelle inquires curiously after the others disperse, her head tilted slightly.

“Huh?” Simon shakes his head and looks at her, shrugging. “Nowhere. I’m here, totally… patata.”

Isabelle giggles and covers her mouth, watching Simon in amusement before leaning in so no one else hears her, “You’re potato? Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m-” Simon sighs, because of course he’d screw up a simple word. “I’m just trying to learn a little bit of Spanish. It’s difficult.”

“Why are you trying to learn Spanish? Because of Raphael?” Isabelle perches herself on the table.

Simon nods and bites at his bottom lip, crossing his arms and moving to sit beside Isabelle, “The guy is just-he says all this stuff I don’t understand, almost every time we talk. I’m pretty sure last time we trained he told me he was gonna kill me in my sleep. It’d just be nice to know… you know? At least to have a heads up.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic?” Isabelle arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Raphael would not kill you. Not now, anyway.”

“Still feels like he wants to sometimes. I mean, not all the time, but sometimes.”

Isabelle watches Simon silently for a beat, then leans closer and nudges him, “It’s presente. Or aqui. Not patata.”

Simon huffs out a weak chuckle, “Any chance you wanna teach me some more?”

Isabelle educates him on the proper conjugations of a couple more words before he has to go. Normally when Simon leaves the Institute, he speeds back to the hotel. Not this time. This time he actually walks leisurely, takes his time and practices aloud, works on pronunciation and rolling his r’s.

It’s ridiculous. More than once Simon laughs out loud at the ludicrousness of it, the fact that he’s trying to learn a second language just because he can’t understand Raphael’s (likely) snide remarks. He keeps telling himself that the payoff will be worth it though.

When Simon finally arrives back at Dumort, Raphael is in the main seating area, by the mini bar, pouring himself a drink. Raphael normally presses him with fifty questions any time he comes home, but he doesn’t even turn around this time. Simon can sense the tension; Raphael’s shoulders are high and his posture is stiff.

Simon’s instincts tell him to try to diffuse the situation before it gets worse, so he moves around the unbearably gold couch and sits down, resting his arms along the back. He knows Raphael doesn’t like when he helps Clary, but that’s nonnegotiable, and the sooner the other vampire comes to terms with that, the better off they’ll be.

“You’re mad at me for going, I get it,” Simon breaks the uncomfortable silence. “But Clary is my best friend. If she needs me, I’m going.”

Raphael downs the bloody mary he made himself and Simon watches, the most he can see at this angle is the way Raphael’s adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows. Silence lingers, Raphael says nothing. It’s unlike him.

“I’ve been here almost half a year,” sighs Simon, gradually becoming more uneasy with Raphael’s silence. “I help them, this isn’t anything new. I’m not as weak as I was-”

“But you’re not as strong as you could be,” Raphael interrupts and turns around after he slams his glass down. 

Simon swallows at the expression on Raphael’s face, surprised at the lack of anger. If he’s not mistaken, it’s concern that’s furrowing the other vampire’s brows together, worry in the flat press of his mouth, an overall helplessness exuding from him. Interesting.

“Raphael, I-”

“You have little to no regard for your own safety,” Raphael cuts him off yet again. “Clary calls and you come running, always willing to risk yourself for Shadowhunters.  Me preocupo por ti , idiota.”

Simon just started learning Spanish, so he’s unable to translate what Raphael says. The only word that comes in loud and clear is idiota; he doesn’t need to know the language to know that Raphael is calling him an idiot.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that she’s my best friend,” Simon bites back bitterly, standing up from the couch.

“I know that!” Raphael raises his voice, then sighs and shakes his head gently. “But you… Dios mio, you’re important.”

Simon swears he sees the briefest flicker of panic in Raphael’s eyes, but then it’s gone as quickly as it had appeared, making him think he was just imagining things. Important isn’t really an adjective he’d label himself with, disposable feels more fitting, but he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he decides to ask Raphael what he means. However, the other vampire is quick to correct himself before he can so much as get the question out.

Raphael clears his throat and breaks Simon gaze, “I mean that you’re valuable to me. You’re my second-in-command, I just wish that you’d take your safety more seriously.”

“Second-in-command?” questions Simon flatly, confused. “W-When exactly did that happen? Since when am I your second? Because last I knew, I was advisor to the interim chapter president.”

“You’re the best option, you get on my nerves the least.”

“Great. That’s great. This is probably the most insincere promotion I’ve ever received in my life. I swear, it’s like you’re incapable of just saying something nice.”

“I just made you my second,” Raphael is quick to defend himself. “The point is, is that you have a responsibility here too. So at the very least, be more prepared the next time you run to answer to your Shadowhunters’ beck and call.”

“What is your deal?” Simon laughs incredulously. “I help my friends, you don’t like it so now you just randomly thrust new responsibility onto me? That’s not how this works. I wasn’t just reborn yesterday, I can defend myself now.”

“Then what’s this?!” Raphael says, suddenly grabbing the tattered remains of Simon’s right coat sleeve.

“It barely had m-”

“If you were prepared and were actually capable of handling yourself against a real threat, you wouldn’t come home like this every single time,” argues Raphael. “You won’t always be so lucky to get away with just ruined clothes. My jacket, no less.”

Simon begins to argue, but he stops himself because part of him knows that Raphael is right. If he were stronger, faster, demons shouldn’t even be able to touch him. That and he feels bad for ruining yet another one of the other vampire’s jackets.

Simon’s shoulders deflate, “I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It was imported from Italy.”

“Shit,” Simon scrubs a hand over his face, eyes apologetic as he meets Raphael’s gaze. “I really am sorry, Raphael.”

“Dios,  tu y esos ojos cafés,” Raphael sighs, Simon can see the fight leave him as well. “Go to bed, get some rest.”

Raphael begins to walk away, but he stops when they’re shoulder to shoulder and subtly scents the air, “But perhaps shower first, you smell like a dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patata = potato  
> presente = present  
> aqui = here  
> me preocupo por ti, idota = i worry about you, idiot  
> dios mio = my god  
> dios, tu y esos ojos cafés = god, you and those brown eyes
> 
> i'd like to thank everyone who has given positive feedback so far! it goes a long way in keeping me inspired, so thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to preface this by saying i haven't read the books, i'm not a writer by any means, and i don't speak a lick of spanish. so if i mess something up, i apologize! i'll add more ships/characters/tags/warnings when they're applicable. see end notes for translations.

  
  
The following month Simon takes to his new position as Raphael’s second-in-command fairly well. As expected, with his new title comes more responsibility. He’s still a peacekeeper of sorts, even becoming Raphael’s advisor to the Clave when a couple of underlings stir trouble by feeding on humans. 

Bragging has never really been Simon’s thing, but he likes to think he’s doing a great job at it; especially considering he managed to focus the blame solely on the rogue vamps instead of Raphael. Turns out when he tries, he can be pretty persuasive. Raphael is so appreciative of his efforts afterwards that he manages to go a solid two weeks without threatening Simon in Spanish.

It doesn’t last long of course. Simon wholly believes that Raphael is incapable of going too long without finding creative ways to tell Simon how much he hates him in his native tongue. Unfortunately, Simon still can’t understand everything. He’s been so busy as of late that he hasn’t really had time to do anything, much less learn a new language. 

Simon taps roughly on his laptop’s mousepad, huffing as he tries to get it to work. The stupid thing has been faithful to him since seventh grade and he knew it was on it’s last legs, but it's still frustrating that it decides to die on him now. All he wanted to do was to unwind, maybe catch up on some of his favorite shows, do literally anything other than carry out his vampire duties. Instead of handling the situation calmly and maturely, Simon yells and flings his laptop against the wall, shattering it to pieces.

Raphael is at his door in an instant, appraising the room and the bits of his laptop before settling his gaze on Simon, “Temper, temper.”

“Please don’t, not right now,” Simon warns; he’s really not in the mood for Raphael’s snark.

Raphael holds his hands up and recedes from Simon’s room, “As you wish, mi príncipe.”

If Simon weren’t feeling so worn down he’d probably find the fact that Raphael is being so agreeable weird, but he doesn't pay it much mind. Seeing as he can’t use his laptop, he throws himself back on the bed and closes his eyes instead. He could probably use his phone, but at some point he’d just get tired of holding it. Besides, sleep is good. God knows he needs it.

Simon falls asleep fast and when he does wake, it’s not to Raphael’s voice or Raphael shaking the bed, it’s because he’s completely rested. It’s not often he gets to sleep in like this, Raphael usually doesn’t let him.

Lifting his head to look at the clock, Simon groans when he realizes he slept for almost fifteen hours straight. There’s no way Raphael made a conscious decision to let him sleep for so long, so something clearly must have happened to him while Simon was out. Just like that, he’s up and about to speed out of his room to find him, but he stops when he sees a box with a note lying atop it on his dresser. Simon pads over to it humanly slow and picks up the paper, skimming the note.

_ You deserve it. _

_ -R _

Simon rereads the note a couple more times before he drops it on the dresser, lips parting in surprise when he realizes that the box is actually a brand new laptop. Raphael went out while he was sleeping and bought him a new laptop. Raphael said he deserved it. Simon almost wonders if he’s still asleep.

“Raph-” Simon begins to yell, but then Raphael appears at his side and interrupts him.

“Do you like it?”

Simon startles, as often as Raphael does this to him you’d think he’d be used to it by now, “I thought you agreed to stop doing that.”

“Do you like it or not?” Raphael inquires, glancing at the box.

“I-yeah, it’s nice, thank you,” Simon says and steps a little to his left because Raphael is abnormally close. “You didn’t have to. Honestly, I’m a little confused as to why you did.”

“Did you not read the note? You deserve it,” Raphael insists. “You’ve gone above and beyond lately. This is me showing my appreciation, querido.”

“Well, thanks, again,” responds Simon awkwardly. “I appreciate you appreciating me.”

Raphael offers a small smile and motions to the door, “I have business to attend to. I’m taking one of the others with me, so you can stay here. Consider today your day off.”

“Are you sure? I can go if you need me,” Simon is quick to offer.

Raphael seems taken aback and his smile softens in a way that makes Simon’s throat tighten, “Siempre te necesitaré. I won’t be long, enjoy your time off.”

Simon is about to argue, because there’s something about the idea of Raphael doing anything business related with someone other than him that leaves him feeling uneasy. Raphael is strong and a million times faster than Simon, so it’s not even that he contributes much; he’d just prefer to be around if something went wrong.

Raphael puts a hand up to hush him and backs out of his room, “I’m serious, I’ll be back in no time. I swear, you worry too much.”

Simon sighs when Raphael disappears, watching after him for a moment before returning his attention to his new laptop. Maybe he does deserve this, some time to himself. It’s okay to indulge yourself every once in a while, and considering his attempts to do just that failed the night before he doesn’t see the harm in it. Raphael will be fine.

***  


Raphael isn’t fine. He comes stumbling back into Dumort covered in blood, clothes torn and completely alone. Simon’s at Raphael’s side in less than a second, reaching out to hold him up.

“What happened?! You said you’d be fine,” Simon helps Raphael to the gold couch.

“Pinche traidor,” Raphael spits, groaning in pain when Simon sits him down. “Quiero su cabeza.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Simon points out and opens Raphael’s jacket to get a better look at the damage. “English, please.”

“Tommy,” Raphael explains, gritting his teeth and huffing when Simon curiously prods at the wound on his side. “He was still loyal to Camille, I should have never taken him with me.”

“So he what? He attacked you when you were alone?” asks Simon distractedly, speeding suddenly to grab the first aid kit and back.

“Asshole was still bitter about the whole thing.”

Simon puts the kit beside Raphael’s thigh and crouches down, mindlessly pressing closer to unbutton Raphael’s dress shirt, “Judging by the fact that you came back without him, I’m gonna assume you took care of him?”

Simon soaks the gauze with alcohol and starts cleaning up the wound. There's a long pause before Simon realizes that Raphael still hasn’t answered him. When he looks up, Raphael is staring at him, unguarded and curious. Simon’s hand stills on Raphael’s side after he’s got it bandaged. He clears his head, stands back up, and grabs the first aid kit.

“Looks like you’ll be fine,” Simon tells him, voice cracking as he speaks. “I’m gonna-I gotta-I still haven’t set my laptop up, so... Yell if you need me.”

“Simon,” Raphael says when Simon starts to leave, stopping him in his tracks.

Simon scratches the side of his neck, unable to fully hold Raphael’s gaze, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

The corners of Simon’s mouth lift up in a subtle smile, “No problem, but, maybe next time, take me when I offer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mi príncipe = my prince  
> querido = dear  
> siempre te necesitaré = i'll always need you  
> pinche traidor = fucking traitor  
> quiero su cabeza = i want his head


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to preface this by saying i haven't read the books, i'm not a writer by any means, and i don't speak a lick of spanish. so if i mess something up, i apologize! i'll add more ships/characters/tags/warnings when they're applicable. see end notes for translations.

  
  
Simon’s not a complete idiot; he’s perceptive enough to realize that both he and Raphael purposefully avoid each other after the attack. If Raphael is in the lounge area, Simon doesn’t come out of his bedroom. If Simon is anywhere other than his room, Raphael is usually nowhere to be found. It’s just how things become and Simon doesn’t argue it, because every time he so much as thinks about saying something to the other vampire he feels a lump form in his throat. Raphael makes him nervous and he doesn’t know why.

The lack of interaction gets under Simon’s skin, cabin fever settles in and he starts going to the Institute more often. Simon just doesn’t like feeling alone. Killing time with Clary and the others eases the loneliness. Simon helps with their missions and during downtime, Isabelle helps him broaden his Spanish, although it feels like a moot point now.

It’s a good way to waste time. By the end of the first week of what Simon dubs The Silence, he can actually form an entire sentence in Spanish. Isabelle is so proud when he doesn’t goof the words that she jumps up and down before throwing her arms around his shoulders in an excited hug. At this point, he knows more than he did and even though there’s still a pronunciation barrier for a lot of it, at least he has a base understanding.

“You did it, mijo!” Isabelle squeezes him and pulls back, touching his arms. “You’ve got to do it for Clary, I’ll go get her.”

Simon nods and watches Isabelle saunter off, dropping down into one of the seats next to the table. He knows he should be more excited, but if he and Raphael aren’t talking then what’s the point in learning all of this? It’d look nice on a resume, but with him being a vampire, he might as well kiss the prospect of ever having a legitimate job goodbye.

“Simon, are you okay?” Clary asks softly, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Simon pulls himself from his thoughts and looks up at her, nodding quickly and ignoring the sympathetic look on his best friend’s face, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s nothing.”

Clary doesn’t look convinced.

“Oh, hey,” Simon stands up, forcing a smile. “Check this out. Algo hermoso se acerca, aún si es solo el sol.”

“Simon!” Clary nearly squeals, her smile infectious. “That’s beautiful, what does it mean?”

“There is something beautiful coming, even if it’s only the sun. Ironic, I guess. Isabelle thought it was funny.”

“Well, she seems to be doing a good job at teaching you,” Clary giggles at the joke. “You’re learning so quick too.”

“Perk of being a vampire,” Simon points out glumly, looking away from Clary. “I have literally all the time in the world.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clary ducks her head to follow Simon’s gaze, concerned. “You can talk to me, you know that.”

“I know,” nods Simon. “But it’s not important. It’s just Raphael.”

A knowing look spreads across Clary’s face, “Are you guys fighting?”

“Nope,” Simon shakes his head and plops back down into his chair. “That’s the worst part about it. It’d probably be less frustrating if we were. We’re just not talking. It’s weird.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not really?” Simon shrugs, “He got attacked by one of the vampires Camille sired. I told him not to go without me in the first place, but he did anyway. I helped patch him up when he got back and that was pretty much it. We haven’t spoken more than five words to one another since.”

“How does that make you feel?” asks Clary, sitting on the table next to him.

“Are you shrinking me right now?” Simon chuckles. “I don’t know, it just-I don’t like it. It’s Raphael, he always has something to say and most of the time it’s unfiltered snark. There’s been none of that lately.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it, to see what the problem is?”

“What? No,” Simon is quick to respond. “I mean, yes. I’ve tried, I just clam up every time. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Clary hums and hops off the table, bending over to kiss his cheek, “I think you should talk to him. Also, are you staying here again tonight? Izzy wants to rewatch Pretty in Pink for the thousandth time.”

“You shouldn’t have ever shown it to her,” Simon laughs, standing up yet again and shaking his head. “No, I should probably go back to Dumort. Staying here isn’t gonna solve my problems, I guess.”

“Call me later,” Clary smiles.

“You got it,” Simon calls as he leaves the Institute.

***

“Raphael!” Simon yells once he gets back, haphazardly looking for the other vampire.

Normally, this is the part where Raphael shows up out of nowhere and scares the piss out of Simon. It doesn’t happen this time, and he’s not sure how he feels about it but it definitely doesn’t fall under the good spectrum. He just wants things to go back to the way they were.

Raphael’s door is cracked when Simon checks for him there, so he reaches out and slowly pushes it open, “Raphael?”

Once the door is open far enough, Simon sees Raphael sitting on the edge of his bed with head drooping, his face resting in his hands. Simon’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the sight, because it feels private, like no one should ever see Raphael like this, but he steps further into the room regardless.

“Hey,” Simon whispers, still trying to get Raphael’s attention.

Raphael doesn’t look up, he doesn’t speak.

Simon doubles his efforts and just starts blabbing, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here much lately, it’s just that things seem tense between us and I don’t really understand why. I’m sorry we haven’t been-”

“Simon,” Raphael sighs.

Simon takes the cue and stops talking. It’s not often Raphael actually uses his real name, the other vampire usually has a dictionary of colorful nicknames to use instead; that definitely means that something is wrong.

“Before, you asked me why I still wear my rosary,” Raphael speaks up, dropping his hands from his face and slowly sitting upright. “I only told you a partial truth.”

Simon swallows; he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Raphael so serious. 

“When I was still human, rumors started circulating about a vampire when neighborhood children kept disappearing. Me and a couple of buddies of mine thought we were tough, so we formed a mob. We thought we could protect everyone.”

Despite not understanding why Raphael is telling him this story, Simon sits down next to Raphael on the bed and listens intently.

Raphael turns his head and stares at Simon for a brief second before continuing, “We tracked it down. Before we went after it, mi madre gave me this rosary. She thought it would protect me from the monster, the vampire.”

Simon watches Raphael brush a hand over his chest, likely where the crucifix is, his eyes somewhere else entirely.

“As you can tell, it didn’t protect me from anything,” Raphael says, glancing at Simon. “We were unprepared, the vampire turned me. After that, it was all a frenzy for a while. Dios mio, all I could think about was blood. I killed him, my sire.”

Raphael is quiet for about a minute, but Simon doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to interrupt. If Raphael needs time to collect himself, or his thoughts, Simon is okay with that.

“And then I killed all of my friends,” Raphael admits lowly, like the memory still pains him greatly. “I wanted to take my own life, but Magnus found me and took me in. He saved me from myself.”

“This,” Raphael motions to his hidden rosary, tugging his collar down far enough so Simon can see the scars he normally keeps hidden. “It’s not just faith, it’s also penance.”

“You blame yourself for killing your friends?” Simon asks.

Raphael simply nods.

“Well, it wasn’t your fault,” Simon tells him, a mixture of anger and sympathy in his voice. “That thing, the one who turned you. It was his fault. I’m really sorry, Raph.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, mi sol.”

Simon furrows his brows slightly, because he knows that word. It means sun, and mi means my. Raphael just called him his sun, he’s almost sure of it. But on the off chance that he’s wrong, he doesn’t mention it.

Simon also _still_ doesn’t understand why Raphael told him the story, but seeing as it’s Raphael, he figures there’s probably a pretty good reason. He doesn’t press.

Raphael looks at Simon and if Simon’s heart were still beating, it’d be going double time. It’s the same look Raphael gave him before, when he was patching him up. No one has ever looked at him this way, so unguarded and, if he’s not mistaken, frightened. Of what, exactly? He's not sure, but it's there nonetheless.  


Simon stares back because he can’t bring himself to look away. Hell, he’s not sure he wants to. Raphael is the one who finally looks away, huffing loudly and standing up. It’s remarkable, how Raphael goes from this vulnerable thing that Simon wants to protect back to his usual self, like flipping a switch.

“Dios, necesito un trago.”

And just like that, without any real effort on Simon’s part, they’re talking again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mijo = dear (just a term of endearment, i think?)  
> algo hermoso se acerca, aún si es solo el sol = there is something beautiful coming, even if it’s only the sun  
> mi madre = my mother  
> dios mio = my god  
> mi sol = my sun (i think?)  
> dios, necesito un trago = god, i need a drink


End file.
